Mr. Skeleton Man

Lying on your bed With sunken cheeks And a balding head Your lips are sealed with a shiny gloss So that no snores may escape your sleeping mouth Your wife weeps above you With rosy cheeks And curly hair She mumbles her good-byes Through shaken sobs and parted lips

Mr. Skeleton Man You look so handsome in your suit The gray matches your hair Of which you have little left! The suit widens your shoulders Making you look stronger and broader Until one looks at your skinny arms Which rest in pillowed sleeves

Mr. Skeleton Man Your bony hands peek out from their cradled gray Clasped together with ashen blue veins That pop against your bleached skin For that must be the reason that you look so white They must have bathed you in bleach! They must! They must! Why else would my eyes water? (The burning is to blame) Why else would my throat clog? (The scent is obviously too strong) Why else would I want to hold you? (Surely to brush the flames away)

Mr. Skeleton Man Your touch is stiff and cold May I warm your hands against my own? If my grip is lacking It is due to the fear You will shatter beneath a tighter hold

Mr. Skeleton Man Forgive me if I have disturbed your slumber I will leave you to your dark chambers That we lovingly shoveled dirt upon That fell with our flowers and tears